


whispers

by thalmor



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, also mentions of pelidil if you squint maybe, idk - Freeform, im sure estre wouldn't mind, mentions of high kinlady estre, naemon is like two steps away from major rebound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalmor/pseuds/thalmor
Summary: prince naemon grieves and deteriorates and lashes out. the man who killed his wife tries to comfort him
Relationships: Prince Naemon/Original Male Character, Trans Male/Trans Male
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	whispers

"Every person, every single one of your damned souls that steps foot near me, you yank me around, tear me around, use me." From the glint of a nearby lamp Kallalon could see the Prince's eyes watering. He held himself back from reaching out, not yet. Naemon drank from his cup, allowing himself only sips of water, Aldmeri pottery amidst the royal wood elven architecture and clutter. No matter what clothes he wore, no matter how much he tried to force himself to seem different, every second spent in Elden Root only made him look lonelier and lonelier. The chair seemed too big for him, the room too foreign. One Prince with so little he felt he could trust. "And I... just keep falling for it."  


"I don't," Kallalon tried to correct, and faltered at the forced inhale from between the Royal's bitter lips. "... mean to."  


Naemon seemed content with shaking his head for a second before he turned on Kallalon. The amber of his gaze startled him, and they were brimmed with emotion. Which ones, he could not tell. All, yet none good.  


"You killed my wife." Naemon reminded him. "What makes you think that whatever you're trying to do with me suddenly makes you better? Makes it all okay?"  


Kallalon's fingers that had been resting on the table meekly tensed before curling into fists that he withdrew towards his lap. _You know I had no choice._ Nervously, his hands clasped each other, hoping that with each time his thumbs rubbed the smooth surface of his rings he'd muster more and more of the right way to defend himself and soothe Naemon simultaneously.  


It was okay. Naemon was testy in Auridon, only whiplashing Kallalon through his emotions by pure collateral of doing it to himself. He had learned plenty that people who have been through far too much could be like that, and that was okay, to him. Kallalon in all of his pain and trauma has different manifestations (his hands never seem to stop moving) and Naemon had his own. That was also okay. They became friends through it, despite it. Kallalon's heart hurt. That was before Naemon's wife was killed, of course.  


"I'm," Kallalon began. The half-Maormer knew that Naemon was hurt, and he wanted to make it all better. "I am not trying to do anything with you, Your Highness." He wasn't sure what Naemon meant, and he was sure that by the unsure drag of his usually confident voice, Naemon could tell.  


"You think I haven't wondered what it is that you want?" Both of them, grasping to understand the other. Kallalon tried and struggled to coach himself through the right moves, and Naemon continued in imitation, tracing his pointer finger around and around the rim of his cup. "Poor Naemon, lost the crown, lost his wife..."  


"What do you want? More for Ayrenn? Me to forgive you?” _No, no, no..._ “Me?" _The want for you to get better.  
_

__

__

_But, yes._  


"I care about you." Kallalon was all he said, all he pleaded. Naemon was crying now, he could see. No matter how deftly the other altmer kept his fingers wiping away below his eyes he could see the pain grow. Kallalon winced at the sight and the subsequent pain in his heart. "All I want from you is for you to know." Ever feeling too much, faced with another man who did so as well yet didn't let himself, Kallalon gave into impulse and took Naemon's quivering hand into his. His palm, fingers, they were warm. Kallalon was sure his own were cold.  


It was as if the contact didn’t truly register. Naemon didn't recoil, and as if to communicate something despite himself he unconsciously gave Kallalon's hand a squeeze, yearning fingers accepting of affection. Still, Naemon's voice broke, and at last he took back his hand as if suddenly remembering how the world worked for him. "You want something out of it." As it were, some part of Kallalon's heart broke then. "You're not the only one who does."  


Naemon set his cup down and the sound was harsh against the thick and quiet air that formed in the room around them. As he then stood up, bracing himself against his chair as he found his footing, dizzied by tears that forced their way out of him and overwhelmed by his own mind. Kallalon once again resisted the urge to reach out. He had done enough and he didn't want more of Naemon's anger for touching him. He didn't want Naemon's ire, ever, not like this, but wounds wouldn't heal in a day. Or in four weeks. Was it four weeks since Estre's death, or six?  


Stress always marred his memory, and the events after the Soulburst didn’t help. He could only assume how much better Naemon was faring. The Prince’s hands still shook in his anxieties as he grasped the top of the chair, and he let out a heavy breath before drawing himself up to a full posture, taking advantage of the rarity of Kallalon being at a lower height. "You won't get anything out of me." His throat scratched and broke once he finally spoke. Kallalon couldn’t stop his shoulders from sinking. Then, Naemon took his leave.  


Kallalon gave him one final glance from where he sat in defeat, while Naemon lost his own fight for his Altmeri resolve, tears falling down his cheeks. His eyes were pained, eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed together and wavering to stave off more crying. Kallalon tried to say something, something more, for Naemon to stay strong with whatever he's fighting against, know who he is and how loved he is, but he said nothing. It all caught his tongue. He just looked and gazed and hoped his eyes told enough. Naemon said no more before he continued away from Kallalon, and the loud shut of the door was harsh against the silence.  


"I'm sorry, Naemon." Kallalon whispered into it, and no one heard him, not even the one who needed it the most.

**Author's Note:**

> "naemon: i know you have a crush on me you gay bitch" - bex, 2021


End file.
